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Oh shit. Did I just pepper-spray Clarke’s boyfriend again or something? She hadn’t said anything about a boyfriend. I grabbed a plastic water bottle out of the cupholder
“I’m really sorry my sister pepper-sprayed you, but believe it or not, this isn’t the first time this has happened.
“Grow up,” Clarke sighed. “Get a grip,” Collins shot back.
“She’s normally more behaved than this, Brady,” Clarke said apologetically. “I’m not, actually.”
What’s for breakfast?” I didn’t feel like arguing with her right now. “Fruit—I’ve got peaches coming out of my ass, I swear—yogurt, scrambled eggs, and toast.” “Ew, I don’t want your ass peaches,”
Part of me was realistic enough to realize that judging her based on her appearance, or worrying about what it would be like to live with her just because I thought she was pretty, was fairly lizard-brained. I refused to let the lizard brain win.
“If you’re going to ignore me, you can at least stop staring at me all day, creep-ass bitch.”
“God, you must think I’m crazy.” “Kind of,” I said truthfully. “But you think I’m boring.”
Why was I blushing at him saying “lovers”? How old was I, thirteen?
He was actually kind of dorky—in a mostly endearing way. He had literally quoted the first Lord of the Rings movie twice today.
“Vibes don’t just come out of nowhere,” she said. “They’re influenced and determined by something.”
Did I think she was kind of insane? Yes, absolutely without a doubt. But I also respected that whatever was happening to her was real to her, and I wanted to help.
“I’m not afraid of him,” I protested—even though I was kind of afraid of him. In like a manly way, obviously. It’s a healthy fear. A self-preservation thing, even.
This is yours. Honestly, it sounds like your basic journey to Mordor.” “Are you really using Lord of the Rings to explain my ghost problem?”
“They called me difficult, and being labeled a difficult woman on a project full of men is basically a death sentence.
Right. Of course. Brady wanted me to lock the door because we were leaving—not because he wanted to take me on the couch. Bummer.
“I would rather dig a five-by-five hole to build character than lock this goddamn door,” I said. “Is that a Holes reference?” “Nothing gets past you,”
I kept bouncing around until I was forced to stop, and Brady stayed put until he was encouraged to move.
“Tell me it’s one-sided, then.” He leaned down, so his head was near my ear. “Tell me it’s just me.”
Then she turned her head—like she was looking around for something. “What are you doing?” “Just searching for a camera to look into,” she said. “There’s no way this is real. Oh my god,” she muttered—more to herself than me. “What are the odds?”
My lizard brain had finally taken over.
“You’re worth everything, Brady.”
“We’re always okay,” Collins said. “Sometimes we’re just not good. It’s a sister thing.”
Fuck, I was down bad.
I let out a squeal—a manly squeal—and
“What does an old rancher know about Lord of the Rings?” I laughed. “I read those books long before Orlando Broom or whatever the hell his name is starred in the movies.
Come with me?” Anywhere.
